He curled his lip as his eyes connected with Lir’s. The queen’s captain sneered at my brother. I cursed under my breath as Eirik refused to look away.
“You will get yourself killed,” I growled.
“Let him try.”
“Eirik, he is thousands of years old and borne of pure magic. You would be dead in an instant.”
“Queen Aine would never allow it.” His answer wasn’t smug. He did not enjoy Aine’s attentions when others would. But his continued refusal of those attentions perversely made my brother one of the Fae Queen’s favorites.
“Perhaps you should give her what she wants.”
“And deny Fionn his time with her?” he joked, speaking of the queen’s consort.
When we finally were led into the palace, we were directed to the throne room where Queen Aine held court. Andraste and her sisters sat near and my eyes connected with my mate’s. Everything around me disappeared but her. The sparkling marble floors, walls, the magnificent paintings that graced those walls, the balls of lights that glowed around the room with no aid of fire. Just pure magic.
Nothing was as magical as Andraste.
I could almost feel her love warming through me.
My brother would be sick if he heard my thoughts. He thought love was a disease.
I disagreed.
Vehemently.
Fae, humans, werewolves, and vampires crowded into the throne room. It was here on Faerie I first heard the unusual music that often played in my mind whenever I returned to our world. We did not have such beauty of music. It reminded me of the sounds made by the lyre, but on a celestial level of bliss the lyre could never achieve.
Fae musicians played in the corner. We were forbidden from taking anything from the fae world back into ours, but I often contemplated ignoring the rule just to steal one of those instruments made of wood and string. The humans needed this music more than the fae did.
“Fionn looks as delighted as ever to be here.” Eirik smirked.
My eyes moved to the queen’s human consort who stood by her side. Six years ago, Fionn had been one of the youngest kings of Éireann. The fiercest warrior. He stood at a great height, taller than even many of the fae, and powerfully built. The male had the most startling green eyes. So vivid, he could almost pass for fae. His people thought him a god. And he and his tribes hunted fae, determined to wipe them out of existence. I had wanted to kill him.
Eirik applauded him.
My ungrateful brother.
Aine could not let the murders go unpunished and so she ventured into our world herself to mete out his punishment. It is said Aine was so taken with Fionn, she offered him a bargain. If he stayed with her on Faerie as his consort, she would spare his beautiful wife and two young children.
At the display of unearthly power Aine rained down about his village, Fionn accepted the bargain.
The mighty warrior had been her whore ever since.
“I fear he will try to kill her someday,” I murmured.
Eirik’s hungry eyes studied Fionn. My brother could not hide his desire for the warrior. I was inclined to think it was his obvious passion for the warrior that had Aine so taken with Eirik. She had something he wanted. Aine did so delight in bargains.
Yet I think my brother and I both knew she would only push Fionn so far, and the warrior was not interested in taking any male to his bed.
Much to Eirik’s disappointment.
“He will never attempt to kill her,” Eirik replied. “She will kill his wife, and if she is no longer alive, his children, and if they are no longer alive, then his grandchildren. He is stuck with her. Until his mortal life ends. Such a waste.”
“I doubt Aine sees it as such.”
My brother scowled. Aine had a penchant for men, human or supernatural, who were not under her thrall. She seemed to delight in the novelty of it.
Ignoring Eirik’s foul mood, I moved through the crowds to bow at Aine’s throne. My eyes flicked to Andraste who watched me with impatient hunger. Soon, my expression said.
Eirik reluctantly bowed beside me.
“The Mortensen brothers. You do add a rough sort of beauty to any room.” Aine smiled down at us. Her own beauty was almost too much. The golden hair, the golden eyes, the golden skin. She was like a fallen sun. In comparison, my Andraste had silver-blond hair, pale moonlight skin, and silver eyes. Like a single fallen star.
The sun burned.
A star was something to place a wish upon.
All my wishes were bound up in my star.
I adamantly did not look at Andraste again. A mating between a fae and a vampire was unheard of, and Andraste was terrified of Aine’s reaction. So far, we’d been lucky. No one had detected the mingling of our scents. Except for my brother and her sisters. But not one of them would put our lives in jeopardy by sharing our secret.